Confessions Of A Demon: The Life Of Cole Turner
by Darla's-Fallen-Angel
Summary: Looking back on his life, Cole writes his memoirs. Please R&R!


**Confessions Of A Demon: The Life Of Cole Turner**

**Prologue**

A/N: This story has been floating around in my head for a while and just finally decided to write it down.

            _Phoebe_, I write her name down and pause, how can I write this letter? I can't begin to explain everything that's happened to me, after everything I've put her though I don't even expect her to understand anyway, she doesn't deserve this, any of it. But I need to tell her, she has to understand that what I did-becoming the Source, being born as Balthazor, - it wasn't my fault, any of it, and I would take it all back if I could. No, I shake my head, as I realize it's not true, I wouldn't take it back, I couldn't. 

Everything I've gone through has been a journey for me. I've been alive over 120 years and I only now am beginning to find out who I am and why I'm here. These questions constantly plague me, yes even a demon wonders what his purpose is, why he was born, and I do consider myself a demon after all. I'm the classic paradox, the middle road between good and evil, for I am both and I am neither. I don't feel evil, but then again I never did, does the lion feel evil before it takes down the zebra, or does it just feel? But I am evil and I know it, I spent half a century trying to convince myself other wise, but I'm over that naïveté, I realize what I am, I don't kid myself any more, there's no reason to, you see, I can't die, and believe me I've tried, but I am immortal. It's ironic really, for me to be immortal now, I remember laying awake at night when I was still growing up and just staring up at the stars, realizing that here was an expansive universe out there and there was so much I wanted to do that I would need more then one life time to experience it all, well, now I have it, one life, but it'll last until the end of time, and all I want to do is die. I'm not depressed really, it's such a petty human emotion, it's more like an emptiness I feel, a void inside of me, it makes me sick to think abut it, there's no point to living for me, I just want to find peace, I'm ready to move on and see what waits me in the next life, but I can't, I'm cursed to wander this earth forever, maybe that is my punishment, the huge cosmic joke for all the evil I've done, that once I finally understand why I'm here, once I know my purpose and there's nothing left, I'm still trapped; stuck here with the mortals.

Mortals; their another thing I cannot stand. Their stupid, selfish creatures that  know nothing of real pain and yet spend their whole lives trying to get something better than what they have, I have no time for that; who am I kidding? I have nothing but time now, it's patience that I lack. But I still can't stand to be around them, maybe pretending to be one for so many years I've become jaded towards them, or maybe, since I know that anyone I could ever possibly meet I will see grow old and die before my eyes and I will still look 30 has made me realize the waste of time and energy that is human relationships. I owe that to Phoebe actually, she made me see that it won't work, if I can't have a relationship with her, then it will work with no one.

I owe alot to Phoebe actually, I have learned more about my self through her than in all of my years before she came into my life, I still love her and always will, but time has passed and love is not enough, it was the hardest lesson of my life; that simply loving Phoebe would not solve my problems, it will not change who I am inside or make Balthazor magically go away. Magic. Heh. There's little magic left in the world nowadays, sure there's the fight between good and evil and powers and spells, but that's not magic. The magic I'm talking about is the magic you feel when you're in love. The magic of discovering another person, staying up all night just talking to them, talking to Phoebe and to be happy to just be alive and be next to her, to hear her voice, to look in her eyes and feel that tingle of excitement , of a connection, to realize that there's someone else out there who loves you and wants to be with you just as much and do with them, and that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay and I will have a happy ending, that everything I'd gone through was worth it just to be in the moment and experience that magic between us. At the time I felt it was destiny, I had the world in the palm of my hand and couldn't wait to experience it all over again, anew, with Phoebe, seeing everything though her eyes. I was so stupid back then, but she awaked things in me that I had not felt before, a longing to be with her, to be a better person for her. When I told her that I was dead before I met her and born the day she loved me, I meant every word, as I am dead now without her. The living dead. But this sadness I feel, this loss, this to shall pass, I've lived most of my life alone and now it's no different. I am Coleridge James Turner, and I will survive this like I have everything else, as I will forever, until the end of time. 

I look down at the piece of paper with the single word written on it. Phoebe. That one word, that one person holds the key to everything, my destiny, all the things I've been searching for my entire life, she alone can answer all of my questions; why am I here? What is my purpose? And most importantly, after all that I've see and been through, where do I go from here? I can almost envision the answers, their so close to me now, so close…and I know through Phoebe and through looking at my past I can find those answers. Don't ask me how I'm so certain of this because I don't know, I've never given much thought to anything I do, for all of my years I'm still headstrong and reckless, but I always follow my instincts. Always. And my instincts are telling me the key to my future is my past, I'm still trying to find my purpose, but I'm getting closer and I won't stop now. 

I have always believed that there are no coincidences, everything happens for a reason, and as much as I hate those reasons usually, what's meant to be will come to pass weather I like it or not. Oh god, I'm starting to sound like Leo now, with all of this destiny bullshit, but, as much as loathe him, Leo and I are really very similar. We both fell in love with witches when all the odds were against us and we're both paying for it now. Although Leo's paying for it is to become an elder, which I'm sure is its own personal hell, doesn't compare to what I've been though. "What I've been through" I say aloud, my voice sounding hollow as it echoes off the empty walls of the penthouse. I crumple up the paper and shove it aside, puling out anther piece, this is what I need to be doing, not writing a letter to Phoebe, but writing about my life, all I've been through, this is the key, my memoirs. They will help me get clarity and find perspective. And even if it doesn't, it'll take up the better part of my afternoon and that's enough of a reason.

I put my pencil to the paper and write, starting with the title: 'Confessions of a Demon: The Life of Cole Turner' the story begins here…

A/N: Don't forget to review! 


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